


Enlightened

by Words_of_mine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Desire, F/M, Fantasizing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Words_of_mine/pseuds/Words_of_mine
Summary: "Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination. " -VoltaireOr how philosophical discussions can lead to pretty vivid fantasy.
Relationships: Female France & Prussia (Hetalia), Female France/Prussia (Hetalia), France & Prussia (Hetalia), France/Prussia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 7





	Enlightened

**Author's Note:**

> Created for day one of the hetalian-cupid event 2021. Prompt : Red lips  
> Set around 1750.

“After all, love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination. And furthermore, …“

Gilbert tried very hard to follow the point that was being made, he really did, but his mind seemed to refuse to cooperate today and he was already lost on what exactly was being debated.

The king, an educated man of his time, had gathered a group of selected thinkers around him, who often met around supper or some afternoon games and liked to discuss every sort of topic that could come to mind. Some even talked of creating a dictionary from the results of these reflections. The nation usually enjoyed these reunions, found a certain form of delightful excitement in the exercise of the mind, so very different from the thrill of the physical training he was more used to. Unfortunately, these days, his enjoyment had been rendered difficult by the presence of a certain guest.

Several of the most prominent figures of these new currents of thoughts came from France, and it was frequent for the king to extend invitations to some he found interesting and host them for a few months, or even a few years in his court. This time, however, and as a show of diplomacy, Marianne herself had decided to accompany her philosopher and grace them with her presence for a while.

Not that there was anything wrong or especially unusual about that, Gilbert thought at first. Nations often met in times of peace and they were on pretty good terms. One might even consider them friends. There was no reason for any problem to arise. Oh but how wrong he was.

The previous speaker had finished his point and she was talking now, having risen from her seat, probably presenting a perfect counter argument. Ever since she had joined these gatherings, she had been actively participating in all discussions, shining by her wit and eloquence, navigating the sea of abstract notions and philosophical ideas like a dolphin in water.

Or a mermaid, perhaps that would be more accurate. Of course, Marianne had always been considered beautiful, knew how to grab people’s attention and capture their hearts, was an expert in the art of seduction. This new age fit her like a glove. All this Gilbert knew very well, yet it seemed this was a force he wasn’t fully prepared to face.

He couldn’t help but notice, over the last few days, how smooth and silky her voice sounded, passionately debating about existential concepts. Or, when she wasn’t talking, how she smiled and whispered clever things to whoever was seated next to her, all of them drawn to her like moths to a flame, radiating charm and skilfully erasing the line between polite conversation and scandalous flirt.

It didn’t help that every other clever sentence uttered in these sessions seemed to be layered in lascivious innuendos. The white-haired man had tried to contain the blush he knew was tainting his cheeks, not knowing how to respond, his education keeping him from these charming retorts that appeared so natural to her and her compatriots.

Despite his time as a celibate knight being long past, lustful thoughts still retained a hint of sinful guilt. He certainly wasn’t as inexperienced as he used to be back then, and knew he had no reason to be ashamed of his own body. Yet this entire atmosphere felt like a forbidden fruit dangling in front of him.

His torment only worsened however, as some other deeply inspired poet started his undoubtedly clever discourse, Marianne sat back down, almost laid down on the velvet couch with a sigh, picking up one of the delicacies prepared for the occasion in the same movement. Red eyes followed it, as she brought it to her lips and slowly bit into it, her lipstick smudging slightly at the corner of her mouth.

He couldn’t look away then, all other preoccupations gone as his mind provided images of these lips on him, touching him, kissing him. He imagined the red marks they would leave everywhere, on his lips, his neck, his chest, his … Oh how soft and warm they would feel around him and how he would -

“Mr Beilschmidt, are you alright ?” Waking up from his daydream, Gilbert’s head snapped to the side, where his neighbour had discreetly tapped on his shoulder. “Have you caught something ? You seem feverish.”

“No ! No, I, er, thank you, I am fine.”

Suddenly very aware of his quickened breathing, and the noticeable pressure against his trousers, he abruptly stood up, hoping it would be hidden by his overcoat. He muttered some general excuse to the rest of the room and hastily headed to the door in search of some much-needed privacy, unaware of the violet eyes following his retreat with a knowing smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> I know women wouldn't have been invited to these, but I'm going to go around this by saying that as a nation she gets a pass.


End file.
